Posted tagged ‘shisha’

Embellishment — Writing’s Favorite Condiment

August 18, 2008

I was reading an old post (actually the last one but I’m a lazy bastard and my last post was almost 2 weeks ago) about how I always break or damage or lose my phones, and I was listing some examples of how these things happened.  I mentioned that once my phone was run over by a truck.  I began to recall that episode in my head.  I remembered the truck being yellow, and fairly small. It had black dashes painted along the side and a lit sign on top with glowing numbers.  The driver looked like one of the bad guys in True Lies.

It was a taxi cab.  A small regular sized taxi cab.

Had I forgotten this minor detail? No and no.  No I did not forget, and no this detail is not minor.  But I didn’t lie on purpose, either.  I was just writing, lost in my own thoughts and madly orchestrating my fingers to weave a web of words on my keyboard, tangled or otherwise.  In my writing trance superfluous details such as facts are sometimes usually disregarded.  I’m actually surprised that I didn’t go for a little more.  If I could do it over, it would have read as follows:

So I was backwards-worming down the street and my brand new phone that I bought like 12 seconds ago slipped out of my pocket and onto the 10-lane highway.  Cars were blazing by for almost a full minute, but amazingly my phone remained unscathed.  When the light changed I forward-wormed back out onto the street to get it, but just then the train that runs above-ground in my neighborhood careened off the tracks and plummeted 50 feet right onto my motorola RAZR just as I was leaning in to scoop it up. I easily could have died and I would have (and according to many, should have) but fortunately (unfortunately according to those same aforementioned people who feel that I should have died) Arnold Schwarzenegger saw the train racing towards me through the air and charged and tackled me while yelling Get DoOoWn before his rabidly gutteral Austrian gargle was drowned out by the train exploding directly onto my cellphone.  Luckily no one was hurt.

  My version would be called “Little Falafel Boy”.

You see how I skillfully toe the line between reality and fantasy?  This is a master at work here, folks.  Here’s a tip for you newbie bloggers (upstart novelists, screenplay writers, journalists, court reporters, etcetera) — don’t over do it.  Por ejemplo, I could have said that when I went back out onto the street to get my phone, I backwards-wormed, just like I did before when I was crossing the street.  Yes, backwards-worming is more impressive.  But if I was backwards-worming when I was walking down the street then naturally I would have to do the opposite whilst backtracking.  Turning around just so that I could backwards-worm in the another direction would be just plain ridiculous.  Furthermore, backwards-worming twice in a row would be so shockingly impressive that it would detract from the excitement of the derailed train (for those of you who disagree, SCREW YOU because you have clearly never seen me backwards worm).  That’s why organized religion stinks — the scribes who wrote it just went way too far.

That’s just the name of the game folks.  The blogosphere gets boring when people only wanna pretend to know about politics or regurgitate whatever they read in the paper that day.  We gotta spice this shit up.  My blogging name is Zuér.  My real name is Leslie.  See that? Sex[iness] sells. That’s why I put this picture of myself on my about page — I look dead sexy there, and if I didn’t you wouldn’t be reading this right now.  FACT. You see how when you saw my picture you said to yourself, “god DA!mn this dude looks smokin hot”?  That’s exactly what I was going for.  And I got it.  Why?  Cuz I gives you what you want.

Here’s another fact — my blog audience has increased in size by 300% since I learned how to embellish (from 1 to 3 regulars).  It’s elementary.  Chapter 1 of How to be a Playa (which I also wrote). 

On a serious note, I’m always honest in my blog other than when I’m going for a laugh.  If you read this post and didn’t realize that it falls under this category, well, then, shame on me.

This was a delightfully painless Monday after a great weekend. Have a great week!

La Ville de Vent

March 17, 2008


Just back from my long weekend in Chicago. Being that I am scouting cities around the world as possible near-future residences, I was amped about visiting chi-town for the first time, and it did not disappoint. Chicago is a beautiful city with a lot to do and see, and really laid back, friendly citizens. As a NY’er I wasn’t used to it… I had to learn not be so skeptical of ppl who stop you on the streets to pass out flyers, ask questions or advertise events. I found myself checking my pockets way too many times… not that I had any good reason to other than my innate paranoia of being jacked. But never fear, travelers – you can leave your box cutters at home. South-side Chicago is definitely rough, but as long as you don’t venture too far out you should be straight. The Mile was Magnificent and I spent an entire day walking around, taking pictures, and being an annoying tourist. I met some great ppl and made some new friends in a city I’d like to visit more often. I also stayed in a baLLer apartment in Streeterville procured by my bigshot companion for the weekend..the above pic of the view was taken (amazingly, on my usually shitty credit-card rewards gift camera) from the terrace outside the bedroom. I done moved on up, biatch. Well, at least for a weekend.


¤For skyline views, go to the one at the Hancock Observatory. The view is beautiful, you can see the Sear’s tower, and admission is quick and hassle-free. I can’t stress how important that is. Skip the Sear’s Tower at all costs! It sucks cuz you can’t see the main thing you wanna see in a Chicago skyline – the Sear’s Tower itself. Worst of all, the lines are craZy because the security there is airport-like. There was only ONE working metal detector and the line was out the freakin door. Then after you get cavity searched, you go to a separate line to buy tix [buy online if you can..thank God we did]. THEN you go to a room where they make you wait for 15 minutes before they herd you into a screening room where they make you watch a crappy video about the tower’s construction which they stole from the History Channel (I’m gonna check to make sure that they have fulfilled their copyright obligations…if not, they’re going down). Only then can you cram into the elevator that takes you up to the skydeck…the elevator pressure kills your eardrums, worse than any flight Ive ever been on. Oh, and not only do they keep you locked up forever in lines and rooms, they don’t provide cell reception either, efefctively cutting off any lifelines. I felt like a freaking hostage. What a waste of time. [I could go on but I am now remembering that this post is supposed to be about how I loved Chicago…but angry rants are so much more fun.]

¤ I went in March cuz I wanted to go with my friend who had an important obligation…otherwise try go in April or later, when theyre are so many more events and the weather isn’t nearly as cold, and getting around is so much easier (the outdoor trolley runs, the free walking tours, the boat trips around the city, etc). Plus you can make use of the beach that borders the city in the north.

¤ Deep dish pizza is good, but this chicago-pizza-is-better-than-new york-pizza crap I’m hearing needs to be put to rest, cuz it ain’t [see, ranting is easier].

¤ Where are you, Chicago arabs? People there were friendly, but I still felt deserted. I went to two shisha places, and the first was blasting reggae music, and the second had pop music. No arabs in sight, only brownies (desi ppl) and the occasional eclectic white posse. WTF? Where were the TVs showing music videos of Nancy Ajram hand washing laundry in a bucket between her legs, Tamer Hosni wearing tight leather pants and pretending to ride a motorcycle, Rubi in a red-dental-floss-and-sequin outfit doing her seizure-like belly dance in the middle of a bustling street, Hisham Abbas attempting to bhangra in front of a cutout of the Taj Mahal, or some random heavily made-up arabic chick singing a pop song while feigning exercise on an elliptical machine while the camera zooms in and out to capture all the glorious, supposedly-seductive angles? Where were the rude and spacey waiters who take your order and never come back, then overcharge you before making up some excuse about how things always cost extra on Wednesdays between 5:56 and 7:42pm? And where were the all the chubby old arab men alternating shisha pipes with camel cigarettes, chest hair protruding, bitching about politics and how business is at the store, and competing with young wannabe arab casanovas with overly gelled hair and freshly threaded eyebrows [and chest hair protruding as well..we re all hairy bastards] for the attention of the band of young arab girls who all told their parents they were going to a friend’s place to work on a project for school so they could get out of the house and away from the watchful eyes of their moms whose only goal in life is to preserve the freshness of their daughter’s flowers? If I move to Chicago, I’m opening up a shisha bar, with the full array of arab-isms intact.

Thanks for a great weekend, Chicago. We shall meet again.

Share you thoughts on Chi-town!


Shisha Smoke Ring Madness

March 5, 2008

I don’t smoke sheesha nearly as much as I used to, for health reasons.  But when I do, I’m always trying to work on my smoke rings.  Blowing “O”s takes practice…at first I couldn’t get it, and then I could do it but not without looking like a fish giving a blowjob.  Then I got better, though my skills have diminished along with my smoking frequency.  If you smoke, you should practice your ring blowing skills, as they are widely regarded as a symbol of coolness and sexiness. In some remote socieities, only smoke ring blowers can be tribal leaders, and are given a virgin for every ring.  Statistics also show that smoke ring blowers make way more money and get laid a whole lot more than non-smoke ring blowers.  ‘Nuff said.

smoke-ring.jpg  smoke-ring-2.jpg

Don’t lie.  You want to sleep with these people.  

Youtube has tons of clips of sheesha-smoke-ring shoguns.  There are a bunch of good ones, but I kind of like this rapid-fire clip, even though the guy looks like a huge stoner who smokes all day in his boxers on his couch while eating huge bowls of Fruity Pebbles with a ladle and watching marathons of DOG: The Bounty Hunter [awesome show].